The Earth is being eaten by machines. Not my problem!
Taking Speed can rearrange your genes. Not my problem!
I've become a humble bum, a drop-out from Humanity.
You may think my morals stink, but at least I keep my sanity.
I'd like to see us all become like saints, but since that cannot be,
Then it's simply not my pro-o-o-o-o-o-blem!

The Chinese have a nuclear device. Not my problem!
Ev'ry politician has his price. Not my problem!
God is dead, that's what they said; I read it in an interview.
If it's so, I'd like to know: Just what the hell am I supposed to do?
I know the world will soon be going BOOM, despite what we may do,
But it's simply not my pro-o-o-o-o-o-blem!

Somebody screams in terror on the street. Not my problem!
People die of hunger, I repeat: Not my problem!
God is dead, that's what they said; done in by Darwin, Marx and Freud.
Free are we from Deity; of course, it sort'a leaves a little void.
I used to care about my fellow man; but now, hurrah! I'm free,
And it's simply not my pro-o-o-o-o-o-blem!
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The Earth is being heated by machines. Hot dry problem!
Driving speeds Man's climate change, say Greens. Got a problem?
I've become a numb-skull crumb, a cop-out from this planet's grief.
True, I think Al Gore is pink; bet that priest will be my freedoms' thief.
I'd like to see us volunteer restraint, but since that's unlikely,
Then it's simply not my pro-o-o-o-o-o-blem!

The polar cap is sluicing Arctic ice. Water problem!
Levees fall; Katrina took her slice. Flotsam problem!
Cod is dead, the trawler said; I read it on the Internet.
If it's so, try pike, shad-roe; just catch and sell whatever's in the net.
B.B.C. World will croon the growing gloom to frighten me and you,
But it's simply not my pro-o-o-o-o-o-blem!

Somebody dreams up terror plots discreet. Knotty problem!
Leaders spy, spin, plunder, lie and cheat. Rotten problem!
Mod is dead ('twas war they fled); done in by fashion celluloid.
Free to see obscenity, her coarse-knit clothing leaves that little void.
I used to swear and shout at fellow men; but now, that's not P.C.;
So with nimble shots, I lo-o-o-o-o-ob them!